Comfort and Joy
by cassiemortmain
Summary: A one shot contribution to the EAST Alliance Conference on Tumblr! The story of the bond that formed between Sybil and Edith Crawley, and the contributions they made to each others' happiness.


_Author's note_

This is a one shot for the EAST Alliance Conference on Tumblr - as always, would love to know what you think!

* * *

"Mary, stop it!" Edith was almost in tears as her older sister tightened her grip on her long, golden braid. "Give it to me, Edith!" Edith let go of the doll, dropping it to the floor, and backing away from it. "Take it then, see if I care!" A whirling dervish of fists and curls appeared between them – "Mary, you let Edith have that doll! It's hers and she wants to play with it!" Mary couldn't help smiling at her feisty little sister – even though Sybil was still only six, she already had a decided character of her own, and one of her self-imposed beliefs was that she must always look out for Edith against her stronger, older sibling.

"Take it then – it's a nasty doll anyway, I don't want it." Mary walked away – at ten, she was starting to leave childhood behind and she had only really been taking the doll to tease Edith, who was the gentlest of the three sisters and an easy mark as far as Mary was concerned.

Edith turned to the little firebrand who had taken her part – "Thank you Sybil!" Eyes shining, she picked up her beloved doll, Bertha, and smoothed its ruffled dress and hair. Then she sat down – "Want to play tea party?" Sybil nodded and soon the two sisters were deeply engrossed in their game.

Mary watched from the other side of the room, pretending to read _At the Back of the North Wind_ which her grandmother had recently given her, but secretly wishing she could play too. However, even at this tender age Lady Mary Crawley was very aware of managing the impression she made on others and she knew that if she asked to join the game now, she would lose a bit of the sheen of perfection and invulnerability she tried to cultivate, even with her sisters. She was starting to realise that this desire to keep up appearances at all costs might one day clash with her naturally caring nature, but for the moment she stayed where she was, sneaking looks at her sisters out of the corner of her eye.

As the years went by, and the Crawley sisters grew up, there was always a special, protective bond between Edith and Sybil. Mary, as the oldest and most wilful of the three, seemed more than happy to forge her own path – she and Edith never really got along, and although Mary couldn't help loving Sybil she didn't always feel comfortable showing her how she felt. That meant that the two younger sisters grew to lean on each other. And the most difficult times of both their lives were fast approaching as the girls became young women – both would have struggles ahead to get to the happiness of which they dreamed and would need all the support they could get from each other...

* * *

Sybil and Tom left the drawing room, leaving behind a stunned silence. Robert was still fuming – how could this have happened, under his very nose!

Edith stood up – she hadn't said a word during the scene she had just witnessed, but she felt the need to say something now. "Papa? For shame! How could you be so unfeeling to Sybil? She is still your daughter, you know, and a grown woman! After everything she went through during the war, I think she probably knows more about the world now, and how it works, than either Mary or me. As Branson said, surely you should trust her enough to know her own mind!"

She turned on her heel and left the room, heedless of the impression she was leaving behind her. In fact, the Dowager Countess found herself thinking – "Bravo, Edith!" and smiling to herself to think that the quiet girl who had always kept in the background behind her sisters had finally planted her flag.

Sybil and Robert continued fighting over the next day or so – he made threats about what such a mésalliance (as he saw it) would mean to her, and she retorted that she simply didn't care. In the end, in response to his comment about how different her life would be, she found herself at an impasse with her father. "Well, bully for that." Later, amid all the drama of the Spanish flu arriving at Downton Abbey, Sybil's situation faded into the background just a little. Edith didn't forget about her, though, and went to her room, finding her steely eyed and determined - "Don't even try to change my mind, Edith – I love Tom and I am going to marry him."

Edith came over to her and sat on the bed beside her – "Sybil, I know you are – you've made that very clear. I wanted to tell you that I admire you for what you did – it took a lot of courage for you to confront Papa and not to back down despite his bluster. He does love you, you know – he always will. He's just terrified of change – he wants things to go back to exactly the way they were before the war, and this made him realise that will never happen. I think he is grieving a little for those golden days that will never come back. Please don't leave without speaking to him again, darling – you know you'd regret it if your last words to him were angry ones." Sybil grumbled, realising Edith was right. "I will try, I promise, but he had to meet us half way, Edith."

Over the coming days, Sybil's nursing training came to the fore and her focus was split between going to visit Tom at the Grantham Arms to make their plans for departure and helping to take care of the patients. When Lavinia died suddenly, it was a terrible shock for everyone, particularly with her wedding to Matthew being so close. At the funeral, Sybil and Tom spoke quietly together –

"Tom, Edith said something to me the other day that really hit home. I don't want to leave here without trying one more time to talk to Papa, especially after what's happened." Robert approached them and the first thing he did was challenge Tom – "Why are you here?" He tried to insist that Tom accord Sybil her title, but instead of anger this time, Sybil showed just a bit of affectionate frustration with him. Robert heard her change in tone and realised that Lavinia's death had also brought home to him one simple fact - life was too short to risk parting from a beloved child in anger.

As Sybil and Tom turned to go, Robert stopped them – "All right... if you're sure it's what you want." The lovelight in Sybil's eyes left him in no doubt of that – as she looked at Tom and smiled, Robert could see there was no turning back. Sybil had made her decision, for the rest of her life – this was the man she loved and would marry, no matter what he said – and he decided to offer her his blessing.

At his words, his youngest child's delighted smile was directed at him, and she flung herself at him, clasping her hands around his neck. Sybil silently thanked her sister for helping her get past her anger at her father, allowing her and Tom to walk away, hand in hand, with at least some sense of reconciliation to carry with them to Dublin and their new life together.

* * *

Edith opened the envelope – inside was a letter from Sybil – short, but to the point:

"Edith darling,

I was so sorry to hear about your disappointed hopes, but I don't think that all is lost! You tell me you love Sir Anthony – then you should do what I did, and fight to be with the man you love. Papa had no business interfering the way he did – if you speak to Sir Anthony yourself, maybe you can help him see how things stand? I have seen the way he looks at you, and I think he truly loves you too – he just needs to know that you don't see him as an old man and that he would never be a burden to you. I know myself that the right man, the only man, is worth taking a risk for – I cannot imagine my life without my beloved Tom and if you feel the same way about Sir Anthony, now is the time to gather up all your courage and ask for what you want.

Much love, Sybil"

Edith folded the letter, a thoughtful look on her face. "Sybil is right – I will not give up! I am going to speak to him myself..." Later that evening, at the dinner party that turned into a picnic when the oven broke down, she found a chance to speak with Sir Anthony alone, and all was resolved between them. When he whispered to her, "You have given me back my life," Edith's heart felt as if it might burst, and she knew she owed her hard won happiness to her little sister.

After the wedding a few weeks later, Edith and Sybil embraced – "Oh darling, I am so happy for you!" Sybil looked radiant, with the glow of her impending motherhood making her beauty even more striking. She ran her hand protectively over her swollen belly and smiled as she felt Tom come up beside her, slipping his arm around her waist. "Are you all right, my darling? Do you need a chair? Can I bring you anything?" Sybil turned to her husband and kissed his lips – "Tom, I really am fine. Doesn't Edith look beautiful? Marriage is really going to suit her, I think."

Edith looked at her sister, who was showing her love for her husband in every glance and touch, and hoped that her own marriage to Anthony would be as happy. When the groom himself came up to claim her, she turned happily towards him. He leaned in to kiss her, his face clearly showing his adoration for his lovely bride - "Old codger, reporting for duty, my dear," he said with a wink, capturing an inside joke between them. Edith put her arms around his neck, whispering in his ear - "Anthony, my love, don't forget - you're MY old codger now."

* * *

Edith smiled and took her husband's arm, watching as their daughter raced across the lawn to greet Sybil and Tom, recently arrived at Downton Abbey from their home in Dublin. Sybil welcomed her niece delightedly - "Hello my darling, are you having a lovely day?" She looked down at the little girl, smiling fondly and ruffling her hair – Rosamund was the image of Edith already, with golden curls and a gentle smile. In the meantime, George Crawley was shrieking with glee, his hands held tightly by his father as Matthew spun the pair of them around and around, while Michael Branson, sitting happily at his parents' feet, watched in wonder.

Aislín, his older sister and the oldest of the Crawley cousins, tossed her dark curls – "Boys are so silly, Mama. I hate them!" Tom crouched down to speak with his daughter face to face. As always when he looked at her, his heart turned over – he still couldn't believe that he and Sybil had given life to this small replica of her mother. "Well, a stóirín, don't forget that your brother Michael is a boy and your Papa was a boy once too!" Aislín was thoughtful, then put her small arms around her father's neck and spoke seriously – "Papa, Michael is not too bad sometimes, but you are the only boy I love."

Tom felt tears pricking at the back of his eyes as he cuddled his daughter to his heart. He watched over her shoulder as Carson walked ponderously across the lawn towards them to collect all the children for the ice cream that had just been brought out. Taking Aislín's hand, the butler of Downton Abbey resembled the Pied Piper as the younger children capered behind him, not wanting to miss any of the fun. The happy band stopped to collect George along the way - after the spinning game was over, Matthew had collapsed with exhaustion that was only partly feigned, and was lying prone while George indulged in a favourite game for all the younger generation called "Let's jump over the father".

Watching their children, Tom and Sybil turned to each other. They exchanged loving glances – although no-one other than the two of them knew it yet, there was another little Branson due to arrive before the end of the year. Somehow, they could not seem to stop making babies! Tom put his arms around Sybil, who put one hand on her husband's cheek, standing slightly on tiptoe to kiss him. As often happened between these two, the kiss became longer and deeper than decorum at a family garden party might dictate to be appropriate. As the years had passed since their runaway marriage, the love between them had grown stronger every day, and Sybil never ceased to be thankful to whatever gods had brought Tom her way.

Mary stroked her stomach - she and Matthew were expecting their second child any day now - and waved over to them - "You two! Can't you behave yourselves for once in your lives!" Mary was perfectly reconciled to her sister's marriage now, being so happy in her own life with Matthew and having recognised a long time ago that her silly prejudices against Tom had been the attitudes of another age. What mattered was love, and anyone could see that the Bransons had that in abundance. She strolled over to take Matthew's hand and help him up - "Are you all right, my love?" Matthew winked at his wife - "God knows how I will cope when the new member of the family arrives!"

Over on the other side of the lawn, Tom had spotted a little drama breaking out over near the ice cream table - an excited George had pushed past Michael to get his share, knocking the younger boy's treat to the ground and bringing him to tears. Hearing his son's wails, Tom headed over to him and lifted him onto his shoulders. As he started to gallop up and down the lawn, he heard Michael's laugh bubbling up - "More, more!" Anthony came over to collect his daughter, who had ice cream all over her face, and got out his handkerchief to clean her up a bit - "What a mess you are in, my little princess!"

Edith walked over to Sybil. They shared a smile - both sisters knew how much they owed to each other, and Edith leaned in to kiss her sister's cheek, resting her hand on her shoulder. "We are so lucky, aren't we? I never forget that or cease to be grateful for it." Sybil nodded, putting her arm around her sister's waist – life was so good for both of them, and they were hopeful there would be even more joyful times to come.

* * *

"a stóirín" = my little darling in Irish Gaelic, per Google translate.


End file.
